Snowflakes and Stardust
I woke to a knock on my new bedroom door.
“Joshua?” I called out, rubbing sleep from my eyes.
A woman’s voice answered instead. “Your young gentleman is in the parlor. I’ll bring in the breakfast when you’re ready to receive him.”
“Oh, uh, thanks,” I said, feeling very odd about not knowing the name of this person who was in the house that was now sort of mine. I hadn’t said anything about Spectrebrook Manor having staff when I’d described my design, but I guessed that came with the rest of what I’d asked for.
Then again, there didn’t seem to be any sure way to predict how much authenticity would arise in the Pocket, of what kind, and where. I’d been too tired to do much exploring last night before I’d made my way up the winding staircase to my airy little room
